For the Love of a Child
by Passionate Cec
Summary: Little Ashley wonders about her Dad. And Helen is left to finally discuss said man with a friend of hers. Part of the 'Piano Series.' Helen/OC. Implied Helen/John.


The muse is back! And I wrote this.

It's part of the 'piano series' even though, as usual, it can be read as a stand alone and this time, the piano doesn't have that big a role. Truth is, I didn't know how to write it in.

Matthew appears in this story, well and alive. You might remember him from _Piano Love_ as he was the friend/lover Helen was mourning. My Helen/John shipper heart couldn't help but make this slightly about them. I hope it works out the way I intended.

As usual, Sanctuary, Helen, Ashley and John don't belong to me (Matthew does though. He will even get a surname... Imagine that!) I make no money with this story. Its sole purpose is entertainement. No copyright infringement intended.

And don't forget to leave me a little something to read on the way out. It will make me a very, very happy person. =D

Enjoy. =)

**For the Love of a Child**

Helen Magnus heard the door open behind her and was about to stop playing but she caught the smell that she knew so well. She smiled and let her fingers continue moving over the keys of the piano. She barely jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the taught muscles of her neck. She finished the piece and looked up at Matthew, smiling. He smiled back, sitting down next to her, letting his hand trail down her back. He leaned in a drop a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth.

'How did you find me?' She asked.

'Your manservant indicated he might have heard someone playing the piano in this area of the building.' She nodded and smiled, then cocked her head to the side and frowned. 'Aren't you supposed to be at your convention?' Helen wondered. He chuckled.

'I escaped as soon as I could. It ended over half an hour ago.'

'It did?' She checked her watch, confirming the late hour. She frowned, checking to see if her watch still worked. He almost laughed at the comical sight.

'How long have you been here?'

'Longer than I thought.'

'A lot on your mind?' She nodded and sighed. 'What is it, Helen?' Matthew asked softly, a hand settling on the small of her back in a gesture which reminded her so much of the man who was the source of the problem.

'Ashley asked me about her father this afternoon.' She answered with a small wince of apology.

Talking about John never ended well between them. Mostly because she didn't talk which always brought the confrontations forth. She knew he had the right to ask her about him. He was after all her lover, the most steady one she had ever had, John excluded. And therefore, he had earned the right to ask about the father of the child who had apparently come out of nowhere. And still, she could never get herself to tell him about the man whom she had loved so much and who had hurt her so deeply.

'Ah. What did you tell her?'

'That he's dead. That he died before she was born.'

'But he's not, is he?' He asked, hesitantly.

He always pushed her to talk about the mysterious man but had learnt quickly enough that it wouldn't bring much. And he had learnt how to phrase his question so that she would answer him without getting defensive. Helen lifted a hand to his face, her thumb caressing the skin under his eye. He leaned in to enjoy the contact and kissed her palm. She smiled sweetly and when he thought she was going to back out and ask him to leave it at that, he was surprised by a sigh and her acceptance.

'I think an explanation is long overdue.'

She let her hand trail down his neck, shoulder and arm until she reached his hand and linked their fingers. She played with them for a while, not looking up as if gathering her courage. Finally, she looked up and into his blue eyes.

'I've told you about the Five, haven't I?' He nodded. 'John Druitt is Ashley's father.' She blurted out, surprising both Matthew and herself.

His brows shot up but he didn't dare ask any of the questions running through his mind at that point. Especially not the one about said John being none other than Jack the Ripper.

'We were lovers. For some of the most beautiful years of my life. We were engaged when I found out that he was Jack the Ripper. I confronted him and he disappeared. A short time later I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't carry the child to term without the father, much less without being married without creating a scandal of the worst kind. But I couldn't bring myself to kill the child of the man I loved more than anything in the world, either.'

Helen paused. She was looking at their joined hands again. She was surprised he hadn't pulled away. But then, she knew how much he cared for her. He knew some of her darkest secrets and had stayed by her side nonetheless. The fact that she had broken one of the most sacred rules of the Victorian society would not be what made him pull away from her. She had almost said 'the child of the love of my life' but she had caught herself quickly enough and he had most likely not noticed her slight hesitation. She felt him press her fingers gently, though she didn't know if it was to comfort her, prompt her to continue or an involuntary gesture. She looked back up at him and to her greatest surprise saw nothing but the usual kindness and love. She smiled.

'I told my father.' Matthew's eyebrows shot up to his hairline again. She chuckled. 'Oh you do not want to hear about that conversation. Anyway. He found a way to safely remove the embryo and freeze it so it could be preserved. With James' help I've kept it as safe as possible for almost a century. And seven years ago, I decided to bring the baby to term. I was lonely and wanted to finally get to know my child. The rest of the story, you know.' He sat, stunned, for a moment.

'That's quite a lot to take in.' He admitted.

'Which is why I've been so reluctant to tell you about this. I never knew how you would react and whether or not you would accept it.' She smiled gently. 'So now, you're one of the two people in the world, myself excluded, who know about this.'

'I'm honored, Helen. I can understand why you didn't want to tell me about her father. But I never would have imagined something so… twisted.' She laughed wholeheartedly.

'Matt, I injected myself with vampire blood to see what it would do to the human body. I've been alive and looking more or less the same age for a hundred and forty years and you think freezing an embryo to keep it for a century is… twisted?' She wrinkled her nose as she pronounced the word. He laughed.

'I guess you have a point.' He lifted his hand to her cheek, caressing it softly, pushing her hair back behind her ear. 'You're so full of surprises, sweetheart.' Again, she wrinkled her nose at the nickname. 'I'm sorry. I'm a little stunned to say the least, I forgot how much you hate that nickname. Or any other for that matter.'

'There are a few I don't mind.' She argued.

'Ah, but I'm not British enough to call you darling.'

They both laughed at his fake accent. Matthew let his hand move to the back of her neck and gently pulled her towards him until Helen's head rested on his shoulder and he could caress her back in long, soft strokes. Helen settled a hand over his abdomen, mirroring his strokes before she moved under his shirt to touch his warm skin, letting her hand rest there. He turned his head and kissed her forehead.

'Thank you for telling me, Helen.' He whispered against her skin.

'You have the right to know.' She answered just as softly.

'I'm glad to have that privilege.' They remained quiet and immobile for a few moments. 'So, is John dead?'

'I don't know. When we discovered that he did not stop aging, I gave him some of my blood, in the hopes that we could stay with each other for the rest of our lives. It seemed to. But we did the same with Nigel and he nonetheless died thirty years ago. So I really don't know whether John is alive or not.' She felt him nod.

'Are you ever going to tell her the truth?'

'That her father is Jack the Ripper?' She bitterly asked. 'She's better off not knowing. God knows I loved him and would love for her to know what an amazing man he was when we were together, but I couldn't do that to her.' She felt his grip tighten on her.

'Do you still love him?'

Helen looked up from her spot on his shoulder. She could see his jaw was tense and could only imagine the hard look in his eyes. She softly stroked his abdomen and shoulder to calm him down. It worked and as if knowing she had noticed his mood he kissed her forehead again.

'Yes and no. I hate him. I hate him for what he did. For hurting me as much as he did. But he's the father of my daughter and for that single fact I'll always feel some kind of affection for him. And he will always be my first love. What we shared was truly amazing. The feelings were so strong and powerful. I could never forget that. Our love was cut short so suddenly when I still loved him with my entire being. Any time I think of him there are still those feelings that come back to me mixed in with a hatred I never thought I could feel.' She stopped suddenly, looked up briefly again and kissed his neck. 'John is unbelievably cathartic for me. He's the one being on Earth who can bring so many intense and conflicted emotions.' She felt him move to look into her face.

'What about Ashley?'

'I love Ashley more than life itself. There is absolutely no doubt about that. No conflicting emotions when I look at her.' Matthew nodded. Helen kissed his neck again. 'And I love you. Like I never thought I would.'

Matthew looked down at her and they smiled at each other. He leaned down to kiss her. The kiss quickly became much more heated and passionate. Hands exploring familiar curves in search of the desired heated skin. Helen moaned when she felt Matthew pull back from her lips slightly.

'You done playing the piano?' He asked breathlessly, his lips moving to her jaw and neck.

'Most definitely.' She answered just as out of breath.

'Good.'

Knowing she wouldn't want to make love in this room, he started standing up, pulling her up with him so they wouldn't have to part their lips. They stumbled to the door, parting reluctantly when they reached it so they could have a modicum of decency on the journey to her bedroom. _Yes, there was definitely much more to this man than ever could have expected_ was Helen's last coherent thought.


End file.
